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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24070975">blue skies and sunshine guaranteed</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/fromiftowhen/pseuds/fromiftowhen'>fromiftowhen</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Rookie (TV 2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Disney World &amp; Disneyland, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Literally Basically Just Fluff, Mutual Pining, Princes &amp; Princesses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 20:00:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>16,152</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24070975</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/fromiftowhen/pseuds/fromiftowhen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Officer Chen, where is the happiest place on Earth?” </p>
<p>She blinks. “Um. From a psychological standpoint, that probably varies from person to person, sir. I’m not sure—“ </p>
<p>She can hear quiet laughter in the room, and Grey looks like he wants to join in. Off his look, she stops. “Um. Right here, sir?” </p>
<p>“Officer Bradford, what about you — happiest place on Earth?”</p>
<p>“Easy. Dodgers game, cold beer, bases loaded.” </p>
<p>They're both wrong.</p>
<p>OR -- Tim and Lucy find out their happiest places on Earth aren't places at all. All it takes is a trip to Disneyland, an undercover princess, and more flirty touching than Disney has ever seen.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tim Bradford/Lucy Chen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>74</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>386</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>blue skies and sunshine guaranteed</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/universallongings/gifts">universallongings</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This exists because of one random comment about how Tim probably hates Disney, and because I decidedly do not hate Disney, and I'm counting the days until I can safely go again. This is 16K of missing a place and deciding to write nothing but flirty, fluffy scenes set around it. </p>
<p>Title from Dig a Little Deeper from The Princess and the Frog. </p>
<p>Thanks to Amanda for the read-through and for telling me many times over the week to just finish the thing.</p>
<p>I’m fromiftowhen on Tumblr. Let’s be friends!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Officer Chen, where is the happiest place on Earth?” </p>
<p>She can feel Jackson’s and Nolan’s eyes on her, and the weight of the rest of the room’s gaze is heavy on her back. Even though they finished training a couple of months prior, she still feels the most prepared for random questions, thanks to a year straight of Tim tests, but something about Sergeant Grey’s almost-amused stare still throws her. </p>
<p>She blinks. “Um. From a psychological standpoint, that probably varies from person to person, sir. I’m not sure—“ </p>
<p>She can hear quiet laughter in the room, and Grey looks like he wants to join in. Off his look, she stops. “Um. Right here, sir?” </p>
<p>“I appreciate the attempt, Officer Chen, but incorrect.”</p>
<p>She nods. Beside her, Nolan raises his hand. Leave it to John to come to the rescue. Grey nods at him, and he glances at her quickly as he answers. </p>
<p>“Sir, I believe what Officer Chen meant was, the happiest place on Earth is wherever you, Sergeant Grey, are. So, at the moment, it <em>is </em>actually right here.” </p>
<p>Grey doesn’t bother to hide his eye roll, not that Lucy can blame him. “Officer Bradford, what about you — happiest place on Earth?”</p>
<p>“Easy. Dodgers game, cold beer, bases loaded,” Tim says, and she almost rolls her eyes. She could have answered that for him, word for word. </p>
<p>Grey shakes his head. “Not quite. Officer Chen, Officer Bradford, find me after roll call, we’ll get you both an answer to that question.”</p>
<p>“Yes, sir,” she nods, turning slightly to find Tim. They don’t ride together anymore, but she still looks for him in the crowd, still expects him to meet her at the shop in the morning, even though she’s had a new partner since training ended, and soon she guesses he’ll be training a new rookie or, hopefully, getting a promotion.</p>
<p>It’s tiny, but she notices the quick shrug of his shoulders when she finds him between Lopez and Harper. He has no clue either. </p>
<p>—————————— </p>
<p>“I’m sorry, sir, we’re doing <em>what?”</em> </p>
<p>Lucy was definitely right. Tim was just as clueless as she was if his reaction is anything to go by. </p>
<p>“You and Officer Chen are getting an all-expenses-paid day trip to Disneyland, Officer Bradford,” Grey says, and Lucy has to give him credit for not outright laughing at Tim’s expression. </p>
<p>“Sir, are we being punished for something?” Tim asks, and Lucy rolls her eyes. </p>
<p>“Why would this be a punishment?” She asks, her eyes on him. He glances down at her, and the disdain is almost dripping off him. She grins, turning back to Sergeant Grey. </p>
<p>“I don’t think we’re being punished sir, but I’m a little confused. Anaheim is way outside of our catchment, it’s not even in this <em>county.”</em></p>
<p>Grey nods. “You’re right, Officer Chen. But this is a personal favor. U.S. Representative Michael Davidson is a friend from way back. He’s in town taking his family to Disneyland for the first time and reached out hoping I could help. He just wants a couple extra pairs of eyes out, just so he can enjoy the time with his family.”</p>
<p><em>“Babysitting </em>at <em>Disney, </em>sir?” Tim sounds like he’s in pain, and Lucy risks a glance at Grey. She doesn’t want to openly laugh at her former TO in front of their supervisor, but it’s hard not to. </p>
<p>“Officer Bradford, do you know why I picked you two for this assignment?”</p>
<p>She watches Tim’s posture change, straight to attention, proud, respectful. “I have a proven and unblemished record, and Officer Chen is—“ Lucy raises her eyebrows, silently needing him to continue. <em>What is she? What does he think? — </em>but Sergeant Grey holds up a hand, and Tim stops. </p>
<p>“Sure, of course. But, of all of my available officers, you two blend in best, and I know you work well together. To the naked eye, you could be a happy, young couple just enjoying a day at the happiest place on Earth,” Grey says, and Lucy watches Tim out of the corner of her eye. He probably can’t help it, but he scoffs. </p>
<p>Lucy doesn’t blame him. “Sir,” she says, and she can hear the tremor in her own voice. “Are we— are we going undercover as a couple? I don’t—“</p>
<p>Grey shakes his head. “No, Officer Chen. I don’t think that’s necessary. The likelihood of you even needing to interact with Michael or his family is slim. But you don’t spend an expensive day at Disney with someone you don’t like, that’s just common sense. So, <em>blend in, </em>pretend you’re having a good time together.”</p>
<p>Lucy nods, and beside her, Tim sighs. </p>
<p>“Something wrong, Officer Bradford?”</p>
<p>Tim shakes his head. “No, sir. Just, the logistics of following one family around a crowded park like that, it’s iffy at best.”</p>
<p>Grey nods. “I know. Which is why Michael already has your pictures, so he knows who to look for, and I went ahead and sent your city-issued phone numbers to him, in case he needs you. I’ll text you his picture, and his family will wait until they see you arrive before entering the park. Just try your best to stay close enough to see them, that’s all he asks.”</p>
<p>They both nod, and Grey smiles. “Look. This is still an assignment, but you both have had a time of it recently, and maybe a slightly more fun day is what you both need, and <em>maybe</em> that’s why I chose you for this.”</p>
<p>Lucy kind of wants to hug him, but she knows better. She can read between the lines of what he’s not saying. <em>The abduction. Passing up a promotion, even if it was for a gallant reason. The car accident. Rachel. Transitioning from rookie to… slightly less than a rookie. Life, in general.  </em></p>
<p>“Thank you, sir,” she says, and Tim echoes her, maybe begrudgingly.  </p>
<p>Grey nods, handing Tim a large envelope. “This is all you’ll need. Now, go get changed back into your civvies, I told him you’d be there by 9.” </p>
<p>As they leave Grey’s office and head for their respective locker rooms, she can feel Tim’s eyes on her, a heavy tug of expectation she’s come to find almost comforting over the last year. It doesn’t feel any less weighted now that they’re on more equal footing — and her need to ace his tests or surprise him hasn’t lessened, either. </p>
<p>She smiles at him, shouldering the locker room door open. </p>
<p>—————————— </p>
<p>He’s leaning against the wall when she comes out a few minutes later, grey jeans and a bright white t-shirt beckoning her toward him like they’ve got a gravitational pull. He’s tall and tan and distractingly good looking, as always, and she wonders if Grey is blind, thinking Tim Bradford could ever blend in. </p>
<p>“Ready, Boot?” It’s such a familiar question from him, she almost forgets they’re not heading out to the shop as TO/rookie again. “You’re not carrying, are you?” </p>
<p>She glances down at her outfit, unsure where he thinks she could keep her weapon that it wouldn’t be glaringly obvious. Her shirt isn’t exactly work appropriate, a loose crop top that barely skims the waistband of her jeans. She’d thrown a blazer over it this morning, in a rush from oversleeping, but she’d left it in her locker knowing she wouldn’t last five minutes with it on in the crowded heat of an amusement park. She shakes her head as they walk off toward the parking garage, and tries to ignore the heat of his gaze on her. </p>
<p>He holds out the envelope from Grey as they settle in his truck, and she takes it, buckling her seatbelt and pulling her hair free of the shoulder strap. </p>
<p>He’s watching her quietly as she turns back to him. “How do you do anything with all that hair?” </p>
<p>She shrugs, laughing. “I think about chopping it all off about once a day, usually when I’m trying to wrangle it into a bun.”</p>
<p>“Seems a little drastic,” he says, glancing over at her as he pulls out of his parking space. She opens the envelope and pulls out two MagicBands and some cash wrapped in a piece of paper. </p>
<p>“There’s like $200 here,” she says, counting the cash. “Note says the MagicBands are all taken care of, we just enter the park like normal. ‘Thanks for looking out for us and for all you do for your state on a daily basis, enjoy lunch and dinner on us, Michael Davidson and family,’” she reads. </p>
<p>Tim nods, pulling out into traffic. “Decent guy.”</p>
<p>“Lunch <em>and </em>dinner. Think we’ll be there late?”</p>
<p>Tim shrugs. “Dunno. Why, you have plans?”</p>
<p>She shakes her head. “I never have plans. Wouldn’t say no to some OT, though.”</p>
<p>He glances at her as he stops at a red light. “You aren’t seeing Emmett?” </p>
<p>She watches him in profile at the light, his jawline that could cut glass, the slightest hint of stubble that always seems to linger. She knows his face and its expressions better than she should, probably. <em>He’s surprised. </em>“No, he got a lieutenant position at a station on the other side of the county, and we could barely see each other with our schedules as it was, so it kind of... fizzled out,” she says. </p>
<p>He frowns and shakes his head, just a small gesture. It’s <em>Tim </em>for sorry, when he can’t find the words. </p>
<p>She’s quiet for a moment before she continues. “It’s not every guy that’ll turn down a promotion for you.”</p>
<p>He swallows, watching her so intently, for so long, that her stomach somersaults, and the car behind them honks after the light turns green. </p>
<p>He holds his hand up in the rearview mirror, a peace offering, as he accelerates, and she lets out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. </p>
<p>“When was the last time you went to Disney?” He asks, glancing over at her as he merges onto the highway. A safe topic. </p>
<p>She watches his hands on the wheel, the confident, defensive way he drives so familiar to her. She’s never once felt anything but safe with him in control, no matter how many accidents they’ve been in. </p>
<p>“It’s been over a year, I guess. Jackson and Nolan and I went with Henry right after we got out of the Academy. You?”</p>
<p>His jaw clenches, and he resolutely doesn’t glance at her as he answers. “Never been,” he says, the tiniest hint of a stubborn edge biting into his voice. </p>
<p>“Tim, you’ve <em>never been</em> to Disneyland? DisneyWorld? California Adventure, anything?”</p>
<p>He shakes his head. </p>
<p>She stares at him. “Not even as a kid?”</p>
<p>“Nope,” he says, putting his hand on the corner of her seat to maneuver and check his blind spot as he switches lanes. She feels his fingers brush her hair quickly, and she’s struck by how desperately she doesn’t want him to move, even as he does. </p>
<p>“My dad got a job with a good company once, when I was about eight, they did a big family day at Disney every year, I think I talked about it for a month straight, even marked off days on my calendar,” he says, and the tone of his voice makes her chest ache a little already. She tries to imagine an eight-year-old Tim, what his big, bright smile would have looked like on a kid, if it was more or less easily won then. </p>
<p>He glances over at her and holds her gaze as traffic comes to a crawl, and then a standstill, on the 5. “Couple weeks before, right as I’d really started bragging to some friends, my dad lost his temper, slugged his boss, and lost his job. He spent the night in jail, and by the time my mom bailed him out the next morning, I knew well enough to take down that calendar.”</p>
<p>
  <em>A dad who used to tune me up on the regular. </em>
</p>
<p>It’s the most he’s ever told her about his childhood, and her heart breaks a little for him. She knows, even if it was easily won then, given out for free, for fun, his dad is a big part of the reason she’s so rarely seen his confident grin. </p>
<p>“Oh, Tim.” </p>
<p>He gives her a little shrug, a <em>what are you gonna do</em> hint of a look, and she knows without a doubt, she’d do anything, if it would change a thing. </p>
<p>“Why’d he lose his temper?” She asks, and maybe it’s the psych major in her, the analyst, but she couldn’t have stopped the words if she’d tried. </p>
<p>He shrugs again, shaking his head. “Never needed a reason, as far as I could tell,” he says, and she wants to touch him, comfort him through some time-space continuum that’ll tell his eight-year-old self <em>it’ll be okay, it doesn’t last forever, one day you’ll be an adult and the best man someone knows, and you’ll grow up and save people. </em></p>
<p>It’s not possible, of course, and she’s pretty sure Tim, the very much grown-up man in front of her, knows most of those things about himself already. She’s considering reaching out and touching him anyway, trying, just in case, as he turns his attention back to the road. Traffic is moving again, and she knows him well enough to let the conversation move on too. </p>
<p>“A Disney virgin, then,” she grins, and his eye roll is so automatic, so quick, she barely catches it.</p>
<p> “Don’t get too excited, I think I’m immune to the Disney charm,” he says, and it’s her turn to roll her eyes. </p>
<p>“No one is <em>immune </em>to the Disney charm, Tim. There’s a reason they call it the happiest place on Earth.”</p>
<p>He glances at her quickly, and that quick, biting flash of annoyed surprise is so familiar between them when he can’t quite take his eyes off the road to fully express his displeasure. It’s like being home again, in the weirdest way, and she wants to burrow into the feeling. </p>
<p>“You’re one of them,” he says, voice laced with suspicion like he’s questioning a suspect. </p>
<p>“One of them, <em>really,</em> Tim?” She’s missed this, desperately. The officer she rides with now, Keith Lewis, is perfectly nice, and that’s probably part of the reason she’s usually pretty bored between calls. She’s missed the banter, the tiny spark of <em>maybe, </em>the daily challenge. She’s missed <em>Tim. </em></p>
<p>“You buy into it. The hype, the corporate greed, all of it,” he says, and it’s <em>so Tim, </em>she can’t believe it surprises her. She laughs, a quick, surprised chuckle, and his eyes crinkle slightly in silent response. </p>
<p>“Corporate<em> greed? </em>People dream of getting to visit somewhere you’ve lived 30 minutes from your entire life, they save for years to get to bring their kids here, to see their faces light up,” she says, fully turning to face him and pulling her legs up underneath her. </p>
<p>“Exactly,” he says, like she’s just proved his point for him, like it ends there. “I watched a documentary—“ </p>
<p>“I’m sorry, <em>you </em>watched a documentary? Was it about the LA Rams, because if not, I don’t buy it.”</p>
<p>“Fine, whatever, <em>Rachel </em>told me about a documentary about these families whose parents work for Disney. But they don’t make enough money to afford to rent apartments, so they live in rent-by-the-week motels and the closest they can get to taking their kids to the park is when they stand in the motel parking lot, across the street, and look at the park entrance.”</p>
<p>“That’s horrible. It might say more about society in general than the actual Disney corporation, which is sad in its own right. But it’s <em>magic,</em> Tim. Just wait,” she promises, unable to temper her smile. </p>
<p>His eyes are on her again as he switches lanes toward their exit, and it doesn’t seem like he has an argument. </p>
<p>“Have you talked to her lately?” She asks, breaking the lull in the conversation. She watches his face as the question finds him, a split second reaction that she’s not sure anyone who hadn’t spent the majority of her waking hours with him for a year plus would notice. </p>
<p>“Rachel?” He asks, already shaking his head. </p>
<p>She nods. It had caught her by surprise, when Rachel had called right before training ended to tell her she was moving. <em>It’s my dream job, Luce, but he’s kind of a dream guy, right? But is he my dream guy? Am I making a mistake?</em></p>
<p>She hadn’t known what to say,  and watching Tim’s face now, she still doesn’t really. Anything she could have told Rachel would have felt a little stilted, a little guilt-inducing, she knows that now. </p>
<p>“Not recently. We tried, but… New York's almost as far removed from LA as you can get, and I think that’s probably good for both of us,” he admits, and she wants to reach out to comfort him again. The lingering look he gives her as he takes their exit tells her he’d maybe, probably, let her. </p>
<p>“I’m sorry, Tim,” she says, instead, and he just nods. </p>
<p>“I almost considered putting you back in long sleeves that last week of training, after she left, just so we’re clear,” he says, his gruff TO voice back, an almost welcome comfort. </p>
<p>“I almost wouldn’t have put up a fight,” she laughs, watching out the window as the signs for Disney come closer. </p>
<p>—————————— </p>
<p>“$25 for parking? Seriously?” She can hear him mumbling something new about corporate greed as he reaches behind his seat once they’ve parked. On either side of his truck, families are piling out of their cars, and her excitement levels up a notch watching their smiling faces. </p>
<p>It maybe kicks up another notch, not in a completely similar way, when Tim straightens back up in his seat, a Dodgers hat on his head. She stares, the look unfamiliar but not unwelcome. </p>
<p>“What?” He asks, smirking at her. </p>
<p>“Nothing,” she says, gathering her stuff and hopping out of the truck. “God, this is gonna be the <em>best shift.”</em></p>
<p>The walk to the tram to take them to the main entrance is long, and already crowded, and she hands him the cash and his MagicBand as they meet behind his truck and set off. “Here. Women’s jeans aren’t built for money,” she grumbles, pressing the cash into his palm. </p>
<p>She can feel his eyes on her, her skin prickling from the warmth of his gaze. “What?” She asks, looking over her shoulder at him as he stops to secure the money, his eyes on her the whole time. </p>
<p>“Nothing,” he echoes back at her, his long strides bringing them back in sync quickly. </p>
<p>She watches him survey the crowd a few minutes later, glancing up from his phone every few seconds as they board the tram, always vigilant, always investigating. “What’s up with everyone wearing bear ears?” He asks, and she can only stare at him. </p>
<p>“God, Tim, were you deprived of <em>all</em> joy as a child?” She asks, the words leaving her mouth before she realizes how horrible they sound, given their previous conversation. “<em>God, I’m sorry,”</em> she whispers, watching him glance away and back quickly. “They’re <em>mouse</em> ears, like Minnie, Mickey,” she tells him quickly. He nods, adjusting the bill of his hat and looking out over the parking lot. </p>
<p>“So, who are we looking for, anyway?” She asks, knowing that distracting him with work is the best way to get back to their regular banter. </p>
<p>He shifts on the bench, reaching for his phone. His thigh presses against hers as he shows her the screen, and she tries to concentrate on both the screen and on not moving an inch, the firm press of muscle against her teasingly good. </p>
<p>“This is him,” he says, showing her a picture. “Two kids, four adults. He texted while I was driving, looks like they’ll be to the left of the main entrance, all in matching orange shirts.”</p>
<p>“Smart,” she says, leaning over him to zoom in on the picture. The tram hits a bump and her body sways into his, and she automatically steadies herself with a hand on his knee. She glances up at him, ready to apologize, but he just smirks and locks his phone. </p>
<p>“Are we approaching him?” She draws her hand back, but only because it’s probably not acceptable to feel up your former TO on a tram full of kids. </p>
<p>He shakes his head. “Text said he wanted the kids to have as normal an experience as possible. He’s not worried, but I gather he’s made some statements lately that may not have gone over so well with some constituents, so he just wants to avoid any confrontation in front of the kids.”</p>
<p>“See, Tim? He wants his kids to have a <em>magical day,”</em> she says, maybe accidentally leaning back into him as the tram turns. </p>
<p>He rolls his eyes, but doesn’t lean away. </p>
<p>—————————— </p>
<p>“That’s them?” She asks, and Tim can tell she’s doing her best to be covert. </p>
<p>He nods, glancing down at her. They’re in maybe his own version of hell, the jury is still out; but working with her again, falling back into their familiar rhythm — well, it’s not hell, in a way he wishes he could stop focusing on. </p>
<p>She turns slightly to look at Davidson and his family behind her, and the motion inches the fabric of her shirt up, toned, pale skin exposed in a way he definitely never saw in her uniform. He manages to shake himself out of it as she turns back to him, smiling. </p>
<p>“They look like a nice family. Think those are the grandparents?” </p>
<p>He nods. “Yeah, probably.” He’s doing a quick once over, and he has to hand it to the guy, the matching shirts are loud and obnoxious enough that Tim’s pretty sure he won’t have a problem picking them out of the crowd. </p>
<p>“They’re gonna have such a special day, Tim. That’s what it’s all about,” she says, and he has to smile. She’s basically bouncing, vibrating out of her skin. He tries to remember the first time he saw her like that, distractingly happy — when she’d climbed the semi and gotten the drop on that suspect, maybe, and that feels like forever ago.</p>
<p>“If you say so,” he says, watching over her head as Davidson scans the crowd. Their eyes meet and Tim nods, making sure he knows they’re here. He gets a nod back, and watches as Davidson starts moving his family toward the entrance. </p>
<p>“C’mon,” he says, dragging his fingers lightly over the fabric at her hip to point her in the right direction. </p>
<p>“Hang on,” she says, but she doesn’t move away enough for his fingers to fall away. “Look. I know you still have your whole… TO energy where I’m concerned, but <em>this </em>isn't your area of expertise. If you don’t like the term ‘Disney virgin,’ you can go with ‘Disney rookie.’” </p>
<p>“I like that even less,” he mutters, watching her lips twist into a smile. </p>
<p>“Yeah, I figured,” she grins. “But I know this place like you know… I don’t know, LA sports trivia, or whatever. Can we agree this might be the one area I’m more experienced at than you?”</p>
<p>He rolls his eyes, but nods. </p>
<p>“Good. And the student becomes the teacher,” she says, turning and basically bouncing off toward the entrance. </p>
<p>He might actually be in hell. </p>
<p>—————————— </p>
<p>“What’s that smell?” He asks a few minutes later as they walk down Main Street. </p>
<p>“Disney,” she says, a laugh bubbling to the surface of the words. </p>
<p>He glances at her, already rolling his eyes. </p>
<p>She laughs. “Food, magic, <em>I don’t know, </em>Tim.” She touches his arm lightly, and it probably shouldn’t send shockwaves up his whole left side, but it does. She points ahead, to Davidson’s kids, a little girl, and a slightly taller boy. “How old do you think that girl is? 5, 6?”</p>
<p>He nods. “Probably, yeah.”</p>
<p><em>“Best </em>age for Disney. Okay, just watch her when she sees Sleeping Beauty’s castle for the first time. It’ll change your mind about Disney.”</p>
<p>And okay, watching the little girl look up <em>and up and up, </em>and then turn to her parents and grin, jumping up and down… it’s pretty cute, in that way that sticky, jam-hands kids can sometimes be. </p>
<p>Watching <em>Lucy </em>watch her though, that’s pretty cute in its own right. He’s still watching her when she turns back to him. </p>
<p>“Cute, right?” She asks, glancing up at him quickly before turning back to the girl. </p>
<p>“Yeah,” he nods. “It’s something.”</p>
<p>He watches someone approach the family with a camera, and his hackles raise slightly. He takes a couple steps toward their direction, but Lucy stops him. “No, look,” she says, smiling. He looks closer. A Disney employee is holding the camera, and glancing around, he sees several others similarly dressed. </p>
<p>“A photo op?” She nods. Before he can say anything else, she shakes her head, laughing. </p>
<p>“You don’t need to grumble about corporate greed. It’s a keepsake, Tim. Yeah, it’s a little pricey, but look, the whole family gets to be in it this way.”</p>
<p>“Isn’t that what the selfie was invented for?” He asks, and immediately regrets it when her eyes light up. </p>
<p>“You’re correct,” she says, and even though he almost expects the touch this time, her hand on his wrist still throws him off balance, which is all he can blame for how easily she pulls him along with her. </p>
<p>“C’mon,” she says. “It’s basically a rule. Did you even go to Disney if you don’t selfie in front of the castle? Just consider it your first Disney rookie lesson. A Lucy lesson? A Chen challenge? We’ll workshop it.” </p>
<p>He doesn’t move when she stops so they’re slightly more aligned in front of the castle. “Tim, it’s a rule. I always followed your rules,” she says, a challenge. </p>
<p>He scoffs. <em>“Hardly ever,” </em>he exclaims, shaking his head. </p>
<p>“Basically always,” she amends, pulling out her phone. He glances behind them, making sure Davidson’s family is still occupied. </p>
<p>“Fine,” he says, rolling his eyes. He moves in closer, and she smiles up at him, cheeky, triumphant. She turns the phone toward them, moving slightly to try to get the right angle. </p>
<p>“You’re too tall,” she says, moving again. </p>
<p>“Yeah, I’m sure it’s <em>me</em> and not the five-story castle you’re trying to get in the picture with us,” he mutters, reaching out for the phone and shifting her body in front of him with a hand on her hip. It’s too much contact, but it was automatic, and he <em>can’t</em> think about that now. She glances up at him, maybe to say something, but he snaps a picture. </p>
<p>“Can you at least take one where we’re both looking at the camera? <em>Pretend you’re having a good time,” </em>she says, echoing Grey’s words from earlier. He rolls his eyes but smiles as she purses her lips at him on the screen. He snaps a few pictures, and she smiles, taking her phone back. “Happy now?” He asks, his voice quiet in their little bubble, like they’re not surrounded by hundreds of people. </p>
<p>She nods, smiling up at him as she steps away, his fingers grazing warm skin as she moves. </p>
<p>“Good. Let’s go.”</p>
<p>“You know,” she says, scrolling through her phone as they trail along behind the Davidsons, “you’re <em>extremely</em> photogenic for someone who hates having his picture taken.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, it’s a curse.” He puts his hand on her back to sidestep a gaggle of strollers, moving into her space slightly. </p>
<p>“Blessing, <em>not</em> a curse,” she mumbles. </p>
<p>“Debatable. Where do you think they’re going?” He asks, letting his hand fall back to his side. </p>
<p>She glances around, getting her bearings. He flashes back to her first day of training, kicking her out of the shop. If the situation was truly reversed now, she’d have every right to kick him out, because he’s got no clue where they’re headed. </p>
<p>“We’re headed towards Fantasyland,” she says. </p>
<p><em>“Fantasy</em> land?” He asks, raising his eyebrows at her. “Isn’t this a family park?” He checks on the group of orange shirts still leading the way before glancing at her. </p>
<p>Her eyes light up as she gasps, laughing. “I’m sorry, did you just make a dirty joke at <em>Disney?”</em></p>
<p>“I’m just saying, if I’d known, I wouldn’t have been so resistant,” he says, smirking at her. </p>
<p>“Oh my <em>god,”</em> she says, laughing, reaching out to push him away, her hand firm on his chest. “Get out of here.”</p>
<p>He laughs, his eyes on her. They walk in silence for a couple minutes, and it’s all he can do to keep his eyes and hands off of her and his mind on the job. Her cheeks are flushed from laughing, and if anyone asks, he’ll never admit that’s why his reflexes were slow and he couldn’t duck out of the way of the woman who turned into his path too quickly and sent her large, blue, freezing cold drink all over his white shirt. </p>
<p>He curses, Lucy covers her mouth to keep from laughing directly at him, and the woman apologizes profusely all at once. This is what he gets for flirting too happily, too openly, he’s sure. </p>
<p>The woman’s kid runs off ahead of her and she takes off after him, calling another apology over her shoulder. Tim pulls the cold shirt away from his body and tries to ignore the way Lucy has to drag her eyes away. He glances around quickly, scanning for orange in a multi-color crowd. </p>
<p>“Look, I’m gonna go salvage this. They just got in line over there,” he points. “Get in line, I’ll catch up with you,” he says, nodding in the direction of Davidson and his family. </p>
<p>She nods, and he heads off in the direction of a bathroom. </p>
<p>—————————— </p>
<p>Lucy gets in line a few people behind the Davidsons, pulling her hair up off her neck for a moment. It’s hot, and she’s flushed, but it has less to do with the heat index than it should. </p>
<p>She blames her reactions to him today on well, <em>him,</em> clearly, because she’s not blind. But also on the fact that she hasn’t spent much one-on-one time with him lately, and their overall dynamic has shifted a little since her training ended. He still calls her Boot, but it feels more out of habit, and maybe a tiny part of her suspects, affection, than a rule he enforces on himself now. </p>
<p>The line inches along, and she alternates between looking at her phone and glancing at the Davidson kids. They’re cute, bouncy and excited, and Lucy knows that feeling. It’s still basically how she feels about work every day. That buzzy, giddy feeling just amps up as she spots Tim searching the line for her from a distance away. She almost reaches to her nonexistent utility belt for her radio before remembering <em>they’re not actually at work, and even if they were, he wouldn’t be her partner </em>and raises her arm instead. </p>
<p>She laughs as she finally focuses on his shirt, and it’s the sound that draws his eyes to her, finally, like her laugh is his beacon in the sea of people. He squeezes his way through the line to her, and she manages to stop laughing long enough. <em>“God, </em>this is really the best shift.” She holds up her phone, snapping a quick picture before he can stop her. “That’s a keeper.”</p>
<p>He holds up a hand before she can say anything else, though. “Don’t. Do you <em>know</em> how expensive shirts are here? Mine was a wash and this was the cheapest one in my size.” </p>
<p>She bites her lip to keep from laughing immediately. “You think very highly of yourself,” she says, instead. The new shirt is maroon, with a comically large Mickey Mouse and the words <em>“World Class Charmer” </em>across the front. </p>
<p>He smirks, rolling his eyes at her. “Please, I’m charming,” he mutters, glancing past her to check on the Davidsons. </p>
<p>She lets her eyes glance over his chest, down his forearms, the smirk still twisting his lips as she meets his eyes again. “You maybe have your moments.”</p>
<p>“Of course I do. What’s this, anyway?” He asks, gesturing to the line they’re in. </p>
<p><em>“It’s a Small World!,” </em>she says, grimacing slightly. “I’m going to apologize ahead of time because this isn't how I’d have chosen to introduce you to Disney rides.” He furrows his brow, but doesn’t probe further, luckily. </p>
<p>“How’s it going with Lewis?” He asks, pressing his fingers lightly against her back to move her along as the group in front of them moves. </p>
<p>“It’s… different,” she says, watching his fingers drop from her back. “He’s a good cop, of course, and perfectly nice—“ </p>
<p>“And it’s a little boring?” He asks, leaning back against the metal chain dividing the line, putting his hands in his pockets. </p>
<p>“The calls aren’t. And it’s still the best adrenaline rush. But, between calls? Let’s just say, I thought <em>you</em> were quiet.”</p>
<p>“We talked,” he says, almost like he’s offended. </p>
<p><em>“I talked. </em>You begrudgingly answered, most of the time.” </p>
<p>He shakes his head, but she sees a small spark of laughter, and knows she’s right. “Have you heard anything about a promotion?” She asks. It’s been a while since they’ve really just chatted, beyond Kojo updates or pictures, and she’s struck, here in this crowded, noisy line, by how much she’s missed him. </p>
<p>“Not yet,” he says, shrugging. “Maybe soon.”</p>
<p>“Will you get a new rookie next month?” In front of them, the Davidsons are filing into a boat. </p>
<p>He shakes his head. “No, I don’t think so. Grey doesn’t want to switch a rookie in a month if something comes open.”</p>
<p>“So I was your best rookie <em>and </em>your last rookie. Can’t mess with perfection, I guess,” she teases. It’s their turn, and he steps into the boat, turning and holding out his hand to her to help her in. She smiles, lets him help her down. She’s perfectly capable of it on her own, and she knows he knows that. </p>
<p>“No, you really can’t,” he says, but it’s quiet, like maybe saying it too loud will jinx whatever he’s waiting for. She doesn’t imagine the gentle squeeze of her hand in his before he drops it, though, she knows. </p>
<p>—————</p>
<p>
  <em>“What’d you think?” She asks, when the music has faded away and they’re watching the Davidsons step off the ride, smiling and laughing. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I feel like you owe me, somehow.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“It’s not that bad,” she says, following the crowd out. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I was less traumatized by war,” he says, and she laughs, and doesn’t let herself think about how she could make it up to him. </em>
</p>
<p>—————————— </p>
<p>They stand off to the side a few minutes later as the Davidson family looks at a map, and Lucy laughs as she spots Disney cast members dressed as green toy Army men from Toy Story heading her way over Tim’s shoulder. </p>
<p>“Don’t look now, but your people are coming to see you,” she says, pressing her palm against his bicep to turn him. He doesn’t turn easily, of course, just glances at her hand on his skin and gives her a questioning look. </p>
<p>“Your soldiers are coming to find you, clearly they need some leadership,” she jokes, watching Tim take in the green-from-head-to-toe toy character as he walks over to them. </p>
<p>The guy surprises Lucy, taking her hand from Tim’s arm and pointedly looking at her ring finger. He points to it, a silent question — <em>where’s your ring? Married?  </em>— and she shakes her head no. He looks to Tim, frowning, and shrugs, a question — <em>what the hell, dude? — </em>and Lucy laughs, watching Tim roll his eyes. </p>
<p>“Technically, I did give her one,” he says, and the guy grins, holding up his hand for a high five. Lucy smiles, remembering the night Tim had tossed her a piece of the puzzle, solved a tiny mystery for her, given her a little extra needed hope. He smiles back, a quick quirk of his lips, and looks over her shoulder, and she knows the family is on the move. </p>
<p>“Yeah, yeah, at ease, soldier,” he says, leaving the guy hanging for a high five and putting his hand on her arm to turn her in the right direction. She smiles over her shoulder at the character. </p>
<p>“Horrible camouflage,” he mutters as they trail the Davidsons, and Lucy laughs, letting her shoulder brush him as they walk together. </p>
<p>—————————— </p>
<p>“Autopia?” He asks, watching the Davidson family get in line. </p>
<p>“Aww, memories,” she whispers. “This is the first place I ever drove a car,” she says, turning to him. </p>
<p>He raises his eyebrows at her, looking around at the ride as they get in line. </p>
<p>“Race cars, on a track. I think they go like five miles an hour, but it’s fun. My dad took me when I was 4 or 5? For some reason, I remember it so vividly.” </p>
<p>He smiles, but it’s tinged with a little sadness. “Did you come here a lot as a kid?” </p>
<p>She nods, smiling. “Kind of. My mom was still in school when I was little, and this place was like a big case study to her. Or I was, I don’t even know. But yeah. We’d ride this, and the carousel, and my dad would dance and spin and twirl me around in front of the castle during the fireworks if I stayed up late enough.”</p>
<p>“Those are good memories,” he says, adjusting the bill of his hat. </p>
<p>She nods. She hasn’t thought about those days in a long time, and looking at Tim now, helping him create these weird first experiences, she’s aware she took them for granted. She remembers her first day of training, and Tim, who she was so sure was just a hot jerk then, no redeeming qualities. </p>
<p>
  <em>You wanted to piss off your parents for making you an emotional science experiment. </em>
</p>
<p>The thing is, he hadn’t been entirely wrong, and it’d been the first time she’d thought maybe there was a little more than meets the eye to him, a little more depth. </p>
<p>And maybe he’d been right, and maybe her relationship with her parents had always been a little unhealthy in how seriously they had attempted to make it as healthy as possible. </p>
<p>But at least they’d always been there. At least she had silly, happy memories like that. She hasn’t pushed, but she doesn’t think there are many similar ones to delve into in Tim’s past. Looking at him now, his hands in his pockets and his silly t-shirt stretched across his chest, watching the Davidson kids laugh at who knows what, she wants nothing more than to give him those same memories, whatever way she can. </p>
<p>“Hey,” she says, bumping his arm with her shoulder as the line surges forward. “I’ll bet you I beat you.”</p>
<p>“I’ve seen the way you drive. That’s a scary bet,” he teases, his tone light. “But I never turn down a challenge. What do I get when I win?”</p>
<p><em>“When </em>you win, you’re<em> so </em>cocky,” she laughs, and tries to ignore the way he waggles his eyebrows at her, an obvious flirt. “Winner’s choice.”</p>
<p>“Deal,” he says, holding his hand out. She shakes it, his grip firm like she knew it would be. He doesn’t ever go easy on her. </p>
<p>She watches Davidson and his daughter climb into a red race car a little ways ahead, and smiles. She glances at the rest of his family, preoccupied with stowing their stuff and climbing in cars, and pulls her phone out of her pocket. She snaps a couple quick pictures, the look of pure delight on his daughter’s face evident even from a distance. </p>
<p>She looks back up to find Tim’s eyes on her, an expression she’s never really seen before on his face. It looks like awe. It feels like desire. </p>
<p>“He’ll want this,” she says. “And someday, she will, too.”</p>
<p>He smiles, slow and warm, his eyes crinkling at the edges. He’s got about a thousand different smiles, and every single time she earns one, her heart races in anticipation of something she can’t quite name. </p>
<p>“C’mon,” he says. “I’ll race you for the blue car.”</p>
<p>—————</p>
<p>
  <em>He lets her win the blue car, she’s pretty sure. But he doesn’t let her win the race. She bumps him for good measure as they come to a stop, and he groans exaggeratedly. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Davidson’s daughter is grinning from ear to ear as they climb out a few cars ahead. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Better than It’s a Small World?” She asks, transfixed by the way he pulls off his hat and runs his hand through his hair. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He grins, cocky and slow. “It will be when I collect on my bet. Haven’t quite decided what I want, yet.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She swallows. It’s blisteringly hot outside, but it’s got nothing on his gaze. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Proud of you for not flipping the car,” he calls, walking ahead to follow the Davidsons. </em>
</p>
<p>—————————— </p>
<p>“Ooh, okay. They’re switching it up a little. This one you might actually like,” she says, grinning at him. </p>
<p>“Space Mountain?” </p>
<p>She nods, watching the shadows his hat casts move across his face. “It’s definitely faster-paced, no traumatizing music,” she teases. </p>
<p>In front of them, the Davidson family is splitting up, mom and daughter staying off to the side as the others get in line. </p>
<p>“You go, I’ll stay back.” She lightly pushes him forward. She knows she wouldn’t be able to move him if he didn’t want to be, and she grins, watching him pretend to be annoyed. </p>
<p>“Sure?” He asks, glancing over at the mom and daughter. </p>
<p><em>“Yes, </em>Tim. I can handle a five-year-old. <em>Go. Enjoy.” </em>She watches him walk off toward the line. He glances over his shoulder once, and she smiles. She knows it’s not to check on her.  He trusts her — in a firefight, to have his back, to know her role. </p>
<p>She finds a semi-shady spot and settles down on a concrete bench, making sure to stay where she can glance up and quickly spot bright orange shirts. She watches the mom hand the girl a snack from a backpack and smiles. Her mom never really had a typical <em>mom purse</em>, it was never brimming with snacks. </p>
<p>She pulls her phone out, scrolling through the pictures she’s taken today. She smiles as the pictures from Autopia pop up, but she stops scrolling on one of her and Tim in front of the castle. She hadn’t realized he was taking it in the moment, her eyes on him right after he’d shifted her in front of his chest, his long fingers warm on her hip. She wonders if she’s always looked at him like that, a little awe, a bit of surprise, a lot of questions. </p>
<p>She scrolls through her pictures for another minute until a text notification from Jackson pops up. </p>
<p>
  <em>Where are you, I just saw Lewis at reception? Nolan wants to meet for lunch later. </em>
</p>
<p>She smiles. <em>Sorry, got plans, </em>she sends, adding a picture of her and Tim in front of the castle. She doesn’t send the one where she’s looking up at him. That one feels like it’s just for her. </p>
<p>She glances up, checking on her surroundings. When she looks back down, Jackson’s already replied. </p>
<p><em>Giiiiirl, what is happening and why?? </em>She laughs, imagining the look on his face. </p>
<p><em>Personal assignment from Grey, playing bodyguards for the day, </em>she sends. </p>
<p>
  <em>Okay cool but I meant what is Tim’s hand doing bc that is a super coupley pic, Luce. Details!</em>
</p>
<p>She smiles. <em>Idk, J. He didn’t know I wasn’t dating Emmett until today, </em>she sends, but movement out of the corner of her eye distracts her. A small orange blur runs by, and Lucy glances behind her. No mom in sight. </p>
<p><em>Of course this would happen while Tim’s gone. </em>She pockets her phone and takes off after her. It occurs to her now she should have asked Grey for their names, because she has no way of calling after her. </p>
<p>It turns out she doesn’t have to, though, because the orange blur stops suddenly beside a man carrying more balloons than should be physically possible. She approaches them slowly, not wanting to be a creeper, but knowing she can’t afford to chase the girl through the park alone if she decides to take off again. </p>
<p>“Emily Rose!” Okay, she may not have to, if the blur of orange running past her is any indication. “I said <em>we</em> could go get a balloon, <em>not</em> that you could run to get one alone. I should say no now, but we both know your dad would just come get one for you anyway,” she sighs. “What color would Jacob want?” </p>
<p>Emily points out two, and her mom hands over some cash, thanking the man before taking Emily by the hand and walking the few feet over to Lucy. </p>
<p>“Thank you for paying such close attention. I looked down for a split second,” she says. So she definitely knows who Lucy is, then. </p>
<p>“That’s all it takes,” she says, and <em>oh my god. </em>“Oh, my god. I am <em>so sorry. </em>I didn’t mean it like that, it’s just. It’s hard to turn off the cop.” </p>
<p>“No, don’t apologize for being good at your job. You’re absolutely right, especially in a place like this. I’m Liz,” she says, extending her hand. Lucy shakes it, smiling. </p>
<p>“Lucy Chen.”</p>
<p>“I’m Princess Emily Rose Davidson,” Emily says from between them, and Lucy smiles, crouching down. </p>
<p><em>“Emily,” </em>Liz says, a hint of exasperated laughter lacing her voice. </p>
<p>“Hi, Princess Emily! I’m Lucy. Hey, you have to be careful when you’re out at a big place like this. Sometimes you get lucky and nice people help you, but you want to make sure to stay with your mom or a family member, okay?” </p>
<p>Emily nods. “You have Belle hair,” she says, and Lucy laughs. </p>
<p>“Thank you. Yours is pretty too.” </p>
<p><em>“Are </em>you a Princess?” She asks, and Lucy glances up. Liz nods her head emphatically. </p>
<p>“I am! I’m an <em>undercover</em> Princess, though, so it can be our little secret, okay?”</p>
<p>“Okay. I was supposed to wear my princess dress, but dad made me wear this instead,” she says, tugging at the bright orange material. </p>
<p>“It’s okay! Even princesses have to wear regular clothes every once in a while. Look at me.”</p>
<p>“But how will you find a prince if you’re undercover?” She asks, and Lucy opens her mouth once, twice, before Liz steps in. </p>
<p>“Emily, that’s not the nicest question,” she says, shaking her head at Lucy, like, <em>kids. </em></p>
<p>Lucy smiles. “It’s not a totally invalid question, really. Wondered that myself,” she laughs, standing back up. “Hey, I’m sorry, please don’t think this is weird, but I took a couple pictures of Emily and your husband in the race car earlier. It’s sort of a sweet memory for me, with my dad, and I thought you all might want that too. Can I text them to you?” </p>
<p>Liz nods. “That’s really sweet, thank you. Yeah, here, can I?” She asks, gesturing to Lucy’s phone. She types her number in and passes it back with a smile. “Seriously, thanks. Mike will love this.”</p>
<p>“Of course.” They start walking back toward the ride, and Lucy spots Tim walking toward them. He looks slightly worse for wear, and she frowns. </p>
<p>“Hey, everything okay?” He asks, glancing between her and Liz and Emily. </p>
<p>She nods. “Just had a little balloon emergency. All taken care of. <em>You </em>okay?”</p>
<p>He nods, glancing at Liz. “Tim,” he says, holding out his hand. Liz shakes it, and Lucy doesn’t miss the way she glances between her and Tim. “Liz,” she says, and pointing downward, “and Emily.” </p>
<p><em>“Princess </em>Emily Rose,” Emily corrects, and Lucy tries to hide her laugh at Tim’s surprised look. “Can I tell you a secret?” She asks. </p>
<p>Tim nods. “Sure.” She raises her eyebrows at him, and Lucy gives him credit for not rolling his eyes, his standard response to any challenge from anyone. He bends down, and Emily stands on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear. He glances up at Lucy quickly, listening. </p>
<p>“Good to know, thanks,” he says, standing back up. It’s at once <em>so Tim, </em>and also completely outside of any version she’s ever seen of him, so <em>himself </em>with kids. It’s… a lot to handle. </p>
<p>Liz smiles at them. “I know my husband probably told you to keep your distance, but you guys don’t have to pretend we don’t know you’re here.” </p>
<p>“Understood,” Tim says, looking at Lucy. A Tim test. Her immediate need to give him the only answer he expects — the right answer — comes back to her, all too familiar, if a little rusty. </p>
<p>“It’s easier for us, and safer for you if we’re able to keep a more broad view of you, to really know our surroundings. We’ll stick close by though. Just think of us as the teenagers who are part of the group, but don’t really want to be seen walking with you,” she explains, laughing. </p>
<p>“Ahh, yes, my future, I’m afraid,” Liz says, brushing Emily’s hair off her forehead. “Speaking of, if you see any more cute photo opportunities, would you…?”</p>
<p>“For sure,” Lucy says, smiling. </p>
<p>“Thanks, Lucy. Come on, Em. Go give Jake his balloon,” she says, guiding Emily over to the rest of their party. </p>
<p>—————</p>
<p>
  <em>“You sure you’re okay?” She asks, turning back to Tim. “You looked a little off.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Yeah, uh,” he nods. “Apparently I get a little motion sick? One too many turns, I guess.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Really? Aww, bud,” she laughs. “I’ve seen you donate blood and not flinch and spin and roll vehicles and walk away without a moment’s hesitation, and Space Mountain did you in?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He rolls his eyes at her, putting his hands in his pockets and gesturing forward with his shoulder. “Don’t you dare tell Lopez.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Wouldn’t dream of it.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“What happened with the kid?” He asks, and Lucy sees him watching Emily and her brother walk together. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“She’s a runner, apparently. No big deal. Cute, though. What’d she tell you?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“It’s a secret… Princess,” he teases, sidestepping away from her before she can reach out to hit him. </em>
</p>
<p>—————————— </p>
<p>“They seem happy, don’t they?” She asks a little while later, sitting in a blissfully air-conditioned restaurant a few tables away from the Davidson family. Tim’s picking at what’s left of his food and glances up at her. </p>
<p>“The kids? Yeah,” he says, watching her eyes trail over the family. <em>She’s a beautiful princess but you’re not supposed to know that, </em>the little girl had whispered earlier. He’d wanted to laugh, it felt like the last year of his life summed up succinctly by a six-year-old. </p>
<p>“The whole family,” she says. “It’s nice.”</p>
<p>He nods. He pushes his food away. He’s known her long enough to know it’s the lead up to something. He guards himself, but her question still surprises him. </p>
<p>“Did you and Isabel want that?” </p>
<p><em>I just want my wife back, </em>he’d told Isabel when he’d visited her at rehab. It feels like a lifetime ago. He thinks maybe he’d wanted that stereotypical family with her, before. They’d never discussed it in more than hypothetical terms. </p>
<p>He clears his throat, leaning forward on his elbows. “I think, yeah, at one point. Feels a little pointless to focus on the past now, though.” </p>
<p>She glances away quickly, a small smile on her face. “Yeah,” she says, meeting his eyes again. “It does.”</p>
<p>He leans back in his chair, watching her watch the Davidson family. It feels like a new side of her, and he wasn’t naive enough to think he knew all of her, even if the pull of wanting to had bitten at him for months. She looks wistful, watching Liz smile at Michael and hand napkins to Emily, and he wonders if that’s something she’d want, someday. Someday, maybe, he’ll ask. Now, he just shifts in his seat instead, and when his shoe slides against hers accidentally, his feet tangling with hers under the table, he doesn’t pull back. </p>
<p>She glances at him quickly, but doesn’t pull away either. </p>
<p>—————————— </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The next couple hours feel that same way, that tiny little buzz of give and take, a push and pull that neither of them can quite stop playing into. </p>
<p>They wait in line for Jungle Cruise and he watches the sunshine on her cheeks, and doesn’t let himself think about how warm her skin would feel under his lips. He tries to not think about how he always feels just slightly better, his world a little less grey-hued, when she smiles, always so bright and inviting and natural on her. </p>
<p>“What are you looking at?” He doesn’t realize until she asks that he’s zoned out, just looking at her. She narrows her eyes slightly at him as he focuses back in. </p>
<p>“Hmm? Nothing,” he says, averting his gaze to the Davidson family over her shoulder. They’re all laughing at something the son is saying, animated and happy, and maybe, for a second, he understands the look on Lucy’s face at lunch. </p>
<p>They get the last two spots on the same boat as the Davidsons, and he’s secretly relieved. At this point, he doesn’t remotely think anything will happen to them, outside of maybe the kids running off again, but the idea of having to jump in the nasty water to get to them on another boat had filled him with dread. </p>
<p>The boat is crowded, though, and they’re closer together than they’ve ever been when they sit down. It feels like a tease. She fidgets slightly, and to keep from elbowing her, he drapes his arm across the rail behind her back. Except that might be worse than actually elbowing her, because she leans back, and his arm shifts. And now his fingers are just skimming the fabric at her shoulder. It’s a tease, too, but he did it to himself. </p>
<p>The sun is bright, and hot, and her cheeks are pink. She smiles at him slowly as the boat starts moving, and maybe it’s not the sun flushing her cheeks pink. </p>
<p>—————</p>
<p>
  <em>“Ugh.” He groans as they step back into dry land. The Davidson family is up ahead, Emily’s hands stretched wide to show how big the “elephants” were. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She glances at him quickly. “Please don’t tell me you get seasick too,” she laughs. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He rolls his eyes. “No, it’s just the jokes were so corny. I was closer to losing my lunch there than anything else.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Lovely,” she teases. “I think the jokes are cute.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Must be all that Disney magic going to your head,” he says, pressing his hand to her lower back to usher her ahead of him toward the exit. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“You’re mocking me.” She twists to look up over her shoulder at him. Her smile feels as warm as the sun shining on them. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“You’re quick,” he says, winking, but his hand is anything but quick as it falls from her back. </em>
</p>
<p>—————————— </p>
<p>“You’ve <em>never </em>seen the Pirates of the Caribbean movies? Johnny Depp? Orlando Bloom?... Keira Knightly?” </p>
<p>He shakes his head, and she repeats the motion right back at him, disbelieving. </p>
<p>“It’s like pirates, rum, big boats, pretty girls, buried treasure. Those are guy kryptonite,” she says as they get in line a few groups behind the Davidson family. </p>
<p>“I’m interested in at least one of those things.” The slow, easy smile he flashes her gives her a pretty good idea of which thing that might be. </p>
<p>“Buried treasure <em>is </em>kinda cool,” she says, glancing away as his smile kicks up a notch. Tim is always a test, a challenge, and maybe she’s grown a little lax this last little while without him, not always on guard for him to completely throw her off her axis. Every time he’s touched her today, she’s inched just slightly off her axis, and she isn’t sure there’s a clear path for her to right herself, especially if he keeps looking at her like he is. </p>
<p>“I’m almost afraid to ask how many other Disney movies you haven’t seen,” she says, because she needs a break from thinking about him touching her. </p>
<p>He shrugs. “Not much of a movie guy, really. Too much uninterrupted sitting,” he says, like that’s a totally normal reason to not watch movies. </p>
<p>“Not even while you’re working out? No movies, no TV? What do you do while you’re lifting weights?”</p>
<p>He looks at her like maybe it’s the dumbest question she’s ever asked him, but she knows for a fact it’s not. “I <em>lift weights.”</em></p>
<p>She rolls her eyes. “Of course you do. I’m going to make you a list of must-see Disney movies. I’ll watch them with you if it comes to that.”</p>
<p>Her skin heats as a smirk spreads slowly across his face. “Doubt that would help me pay attention at all,” he says, slowly. </p>
<p>She bites her lip and glances away quickly, needing a distraction. She can’t find a bigger draw than his face, though. </p>
<p>She turns back in time to watch Tim take off his hat and run his hand over his hair, and he’s <em>Tim </em>again. Not that he ever wasn’t — but she can fully see his face now, the one she spent a year memorizing for its subtle tells and sharp glances. The one she saw first, when she came back to, the one she still looks for first after roll call. </p>
<p>He smiles at her, and like every time he does it, she’s pretty sure he can read her thoughts. He leans forward, and she raises her eyebrows slightly, watching him lower the hat on to her head. He presses his palm against the top, fitting it on her. His fingers trail through her hair as he drops his hand. It doesn’t feel accidental. </p>
<p>A distraction. Any distraction. A mob of orange catches her eye, and she swears she catches Liz looking away quickly. Tim’s voice draws her back in. </p>
<p>“Your cheeks are pink,” he says, quietly. She smiles slowly, reaching up to adjust the hat slightly. </p>
<p>“From the sun,” she says, just as a point of clarification. </p>
<p>“Yeah, of course,” he nods, because maybe, occasionally, he goes easy on her. </p>
<p>—————</p>
<p>
  <em>“So?” She asks, as they step off the ride. The Davidson boy is up ahead, already asking if they can stop in the gift shop. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She watches Tim try to fake an annoyed look. “I guess it’s kind of cool, the mechanics of it all, the cannons.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I’ll take that as a win,” she laughs. “Think you could sit through the movie?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I could maybe be convinced.” His voice is low, and she knows it’s a test. “But you’re telling me they have this entire gift shop for one ride and I still can’t get a rum and Coke?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>His smile is slow as they walk back into the sunshine of the gift shop. It pools low and warm in her belly, just like a sip of rum would. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I’ll make sure to have rum on hand for the movie,” she says, watching the way his face changes as he slips into a smirk. </em>
</p>
<p>—————————— </p>
<p>“You know,” he says to her a little while later, his voice quiet in the dark, “if I’d wanted to get stuck in a haunted mansion, I would have taken that North Hollywood job and just pissed off a couple on the edge celebrities.”</p>
<p>She rolls her eyes, but she doesn’t think he can see it in the dark of the stopped ride. “Right, like you could ever be held against your will.”</p>
<p>She feels him shrug next to her. She can hear Liz and Emily in the doom buggy in front of them, whispering excitedly, but she feels like she’s in her own little world with Tim, the sides of the ride car blocking out any peripheral vision. She’s a little on edge, if she’s being honest. They’d walked into the Haunted Mansion, and just like she’d known they would, the lights had gone out, and kids had screamed, and she hadn’t even realized until the lights came back up that she’d dug her nails into Tim’s arm. A reflex, automatic, but totally unexpected. </p>
<p>
  <em>“Sorry,” she’d whispered. “I knew that was coming, but I didn’t… sometimes sudden darkness is still…” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He’d stepped closer to her in the crowd — not touching her, but there. Safety at a teasing distance. “Don’t apologize.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Okay.”</em>
</p>
<p>And then they’d boarded the ride only for it to stop a minute in, and his bad joke is the first thing she’s processed since. </p>
<p>Reaching out for him automatically had felt like a reset, like flying six months in the past, and <em>god,</em> she’s missed taking for granted that he was right there. </p>
<p>“Can I ask you a question?” Her voice is quiet, and there’s a tiny part of her that hopes he won’t hear it. But of course, because he doesn’t miss anything, because he’s probably the most observant man she’s ever known, because she’s pretty sure he can hear her when she doesn’t say a word, he does. </p>
<p>“Don’t think I’ve ever been able to stop you.”</p>
<p>“Did —“ she pauses, choosing her words carefully. “Did you really think I was still dating Emmett?”</p>
<p>She can feel his posture change next to her, and she shifts slightly so she can see his profile. Even in the dark, he’s expressive in a totally <em>Tim </em>way, in a way she can only read after a year of near-daily practice. </p>
<p>“Didn’t have any reason to hope otherwise,” he says, and she watches his lips form the words but isn’t sure she really processes them. </p>
<p>“Is that why you’ve been kind of MIA?” She asks, watching the ghost animatronics whirl around them. It’s creepy how the story plays on while they’re sitting still. </p>
<p>“I— have I been?” She watches him move slightly, the shadows of the ride playing over his face. She’s not used to him asking her questions he clearly doesn’t know the answer to, and they’re silent for a moment, just watching each other. It feels intimate, in the dark, in a small space, and she knows they’ve had a hundred conversations in the dark, in a car, in nothing but quietly exchanged glances. But this feels different, somehow. </p>
<p>“Maybe it’s just going from daily Tim tests to nothing, but. It feels that way,” she says. She doesn’t want to sound as vulnerable as she feels, because it’s enough that she knows he can feel it vibrating off her— he doesn’t have to hear it, too. </p>
<p>“It’s hard to transition from TO/rookie to…” his voice trails off, and she doesn’t blame him. Her mind quickly fills in the silence. <em>From TO/rookie to… colleagues? Friends? </em>She knows they’re friends, she’d known it for months before she teased him about it in the dark of the shop, and he hadn’t corrected her. Whatever they are, it’s causing the air between them to feel heavy, laced with a tension she can’t quite pinpoint. </p>
<p>“I guess,” she whispers, because of the two of them, he's the only one that’s done it. And she doesn’t know how, but something in the way he looks at her— has maybe always looked at her — tells her this is a different experience for him altogether. </p>
<p>“Maybe I <em>was</em> MIA. I wanted you to find your own footing, and not fall back on looking to me. You can handle yourself, and you're in good hands with Lewis, but if you think I don’t miss you everyday…”</p>
<p>And it’s like the air has been sucked out of the room, like she’s underwater fighting for the surface, and he’s the light at the end of a dark tunnel all at once. It’s too much, and somehow, never enough of him.</p>
<p>“Tim.” It’s barely a breath, hardly more than a parting of her lips, but in the quiet between them it feels like she’s screaming. <em>Kiss me. Touch me. Tell me you turn to look for me like I always search for you. </em>His thumb brushes her wrist in the dark and a simple touch shouldn’t send her reeling, but his always, always has. She glances down to watch the gentle press of his fingers against her skin, and when she glances back up, he’s noticeably closer than he was. But he stays still, just watching her, heavy-lidded and quiet, the calmest she’s ever seen him. </p>
<p>He’s <em>waiting. </em>He’s not the world’s most patient man, but she’s acutely aware, looking back on their time together, that every time he’s pushed her or nudged her toward action, it’s always been with the best intentions, it’s always put her first. He might not be the most patient, but he’s the most thorough, and focused, and if the way he’s looking at her now is any indication, it’s going to be her undoing. </p>
<p>And it’s going to be so, so good.</p>
<p>That’s the only thought running through her head as she leans in, her eyes fluttering closed. His fingers are a vice on her wrist, the only tell that he might want, need this just as much, if it more. </p>
<p>She’s a breath away from finding out just <em>how </em>good when the lights come on and a voice comes over a loudspeaker. </p>
<p>—————</p>
<p>
  <em>“Ever been evacuated off a ride?” It’s the first words they’ve spoken in several minutes, too busy following cast members through cramped hallways and keeping the Davidsons in their sights to do more than momentary visual check-ins with each other. Nothing they need to check-in about can be accomplished with a look anyway, as loaded as they’ve always been. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Not so much, no,” she says, following the crowd out through a back exit behind the ride. “A shame, that’s my favorite ride, too.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Was pretty close to becoming mine, too,” he says, but the quick drop of her stomach at his words is interrupted by a quick blur of orange. Liz and Emily are running through the crowd ahead, and with barely a glance over her shoulder at Tim, Lucy is right behind them. </em>
</p>
<p>—————————— </p>
<p>She slows down slightly when she realizes they’re not running <em>from</em> anything, but instead toward the restroom. She turns the corner into the bathroom behind them and finds Liz outside a stall. </p>
<p>“I’m sorry,” she says quickly as Lucy comes to a stop. “You hear, ‘mom, I’ve gotta go’ and definitely forget about the people hired to keep tabs on you.”</p>
<p>Lucy shakes her head. “No worries, but one sec, before Tim comes bursting in here.” She pulls out her phone and sends him a quick text, <em>all clear, just a bathroom trip, </em>before looking back up. Liz is watching her closely, and it feels familiar, like any of her ever-observant cop friends might look at her. </p>
<p>“He’d come running in here?” She looks surprised, and Lucy almost can’t imagine ever being surprised by Tim doing his job and being protective. </p>
<p>“In a second, if he thought someone was in trouble,” she says, trying, and guessing by the quick eyebrow raise, failing, to keep the pride out of her voice and off her face. </p>
<p>“If he thought <em>you </em>were in trouble?” </p>
<p>She glances in the mirror above the sink, pulling off his hat to fix her hair. “Without hesitation,” she says, glancing quickly at Liz. </p>
<p>She nods. “Em, let’s not make Princess Lucy spend all day in the bathroom with us,” she says, and Lucy hears a small giggle. </p>
<p><em>“Without hesitation,” </em>she echoes, turning back to Lucy. “How long have you two been together?”</p>
<p>She catches the pink flare of her cheeks in the mirror as she turns to Liz. “Oh, we’re not—“</p>
<p>“How long have you been <em>partners, </em>at work?” She corrects, quickly, and Lucy shakes her head. </p>
<p>“No, we’re actually not? I mean, we were— sort of? He was my training officer and it’s kind of a new thing that he’s not...” she trails off. Her face feels flushed and she knows it’s not possibly from the sun this time. “We’re <em>friends,” </em>she finishes, the one thing she knows for sure. </p>
<p><em>“Friends. </em>Can I show you something?”</p>
<p>Lucy nods, not sure where this is going, watching Liz pull out her phone. She flips through a couple screens, before glancing up again. </p>
<p>“I figured I would be nice and return the favor, try to snap a couple cute pictures for you, y’know? Plus, I mean, he’s fun to look at, so no big deal. But, <em>that?” </em>She points to the screen, holding it out for Lucy to see. It must have been just a moment after Tim put the hat on her head, his fingers are just skimming through her hair. He’s looking down at her, that looming height difference that she’s somehow just gotten used to. </p>
<p>She’s seen the look before. <em>Tim Bradford finishes what he starts. And I haven’t finished training you yet. </em></p>
<p>Except now, he’s finished training her, and he’s still looking at her like that. And Liz isn’t wrong — even in a still frame, he’s fun to look at. </p>
<p>“That’s not <em>friends, </em>my friend,” Liz says, and Lucy opens her mouth as the toilet flushes and Emily comes running out of the stall. </p>
<p>“Princess Lucy! <em>Mom! </em>Let’s go!” She’s nearly to the door when Lucy watches Liz make the <em>most </em>mom face she’s ever seen. </p>
<p>“Hands, Emily!” Lucy smiles as Emily sulks back to the sink, and turns back to Liz. </p>
<p>“It’s complicated. We both just got out of things, and there’s a — well, there’s a lot of stuff.” It sounds flimsy even to her own ears, but it also feels valid and scary and real. </p>
<p>Liz turns the water on for Emily and glances up at Lucy in the mirror. “I won’t pretend to know you or the situation. But I know what I see, and that’s the face of a man who would go into battle for you. Maybe he already has,” she says, and Lucy doesn’t mean to, but her face must give it away. </p>
<p>“Look,” she continues, holding out a paper towel for Emily. “I’m sure it <em>is </em>complicated. Relationships always are, and likely always will be. But it’s not rocket science — it’s <em>chemistry.”</em></p>
<p>She tosses the paper towel in the garbage and Emily grabs her hand, impatient. “And now I’m going to butt out. Ready for Splash Mountain, Em?” She smiles at Lucy as they walk out, and Lucy turns to face the mirror again. </p>
<p>
  <em>That man would go into battle for you. </em>
</p>
<p>She’d be right there next to him. </p>
<p>She runs a hand through her hair and pulls the hat back on, taking a deep breath before she turns for the door too. </p>
<p>—————————— </p>
<p>She can feel Tim’s eyes on her as soon as she’s out of the bathroom. He’s standing a ways off from the Davidson family, leaning against a railing. In a move she’s seen only him perfect, he looks totally relaxed and entirely observant all at once. It’s always impressed her, and just like so many things she watched him do for over a year, she’s still working on perfecting it herself. </p>
<p>“She fall in?” He asks when she gets close enough. </p>
<p>“Feels like it,” she mumbles, falling into step with him as they trail the Davidsons. </p>
<p>He steps into her space, nudging her slightly with his shoulder. “You okay?”</p>
<p>And maybe that’s the thing Liz picked up on, somehow. The quiet lilt to his voice, the softness that clearly comes across in pictures. Call it excelling at his job, call it 13 months of twelve-hour days, call it what it is — <em>Tim. </em>He’s not asking if she’s okay after spending five minutes in the bathroom with strangers. He’s asking if she’s okay after spending five minutes in the dark with <em>him, </em>after leaning in and only pulling back short because the lights came up. </p>
<p>
  <em>And if you think I don’t miss you everyday…</em>
</p>
<p>“Yeah, Tim,” she says, looking up at him. “I’m okay.”</p>
<p>—————————— </p>
<p>“Did you and the mom bond in the bathroom or something?”</p>
<p>“Did — what?” She’s flustered, and just like everything else about her, a million things he shouldn’t have noticed for a year, it’s charming. </p>
<p>“Liz. She suddenly seems super aware that we’re here.” He’s caught her watching them several times while they wait in line for Splash Mountain. For her part, Lucy isn’t engaging, but he knows her well enough to know she couldn’t have ignored the woman in an enclosed space. </p>
<p>“I don’t know. We talked about chemistry.”</p>
<p><em>“Chemistry? </em>She a teacher or something?”</p>
<p>She shakes her head and worries at her bottom lip, and he’s seen her do it a thousand times, that exact tell. It’s as distractingly sexy as it is telling. She doesn’t say anything else, and the line moves forward, and he lets her off the hook with the press of his palm to the curve of her back. </p>
<p>—————</p>
<p>
  <em>The last drop on Splash Mountain makes his stomach drop, and watching Lucy throw her hands in the air in absolute joy in front of him makes his heart race in a way he hopes she’ll help repeat one day. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The ride comes to a stop and he watches the Davidson kids climb out, sopping wet. It’s cute, and messy, and he’s smiling as he turns to hold a hand out to Lucy. He’s pretty sure his jaw goes unintelligibly slack though, and it’s not cute. His shirt had gotten pretty wet during that last drop, but she’d definitely taken the brunt of it -- her shirt is soaked and even though she’s clearly tried to pull it from her body, it’s still sticking to her skin in the most tantalizing way. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Her foot slides slightly as she steps out, and it’s the best torture to catch her, his hand finding her near-bare hip easily and steadying her. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“You good?” His voice is rough as his thumb slides over the wet material of her waist. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Mhmm,” she murmurs, her eyes unquestionably on his lips. He could lean down and fall into her so easily. It’s only the thought that he’d have to eventually stop that keeps him from doing just that. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Public place. A job. Children everywhere. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He clears his throat, his fingers squeezing lightly at her hip as he pulls away. “C’mon,” he says, turning to find the Davidsons. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>—————————— </em>
</p>
<p>This is torture. </p>
<p>As a general rule, he isn’t a fan of parades. They’re usually unnecessarily loud and too long. As a cop, he’s even less of a fan -- the crowds can quickly become an issue in an emergency, and blocking off roads is the <em>dumbest</em> thing any city ever approved, maybe, and the list goes on. </p>
<p>A parade at Disneyland is really no exception, although it’s nice that it keeps the large Davidson group all together in one place for an extended period of time. None of that is torturous, really. </p>
<p>What’s torture is sitting pressed against Lucy, waiting for the parade to start. Her thigh is warm against his, and her shirt is still drying, so when he can’t manage to drag his eyes away, he’s in near agony -- so close, but not ever close enough. They’re sitting just to the left and behind the Davidsons, basically a part of the group. </p>
<p>“So is it as bad as you thought it’d be?” Her voice is quiet beside him, and he feels her lean into him just slightly. </p>
<p>“Jury’s still out.” </p>
<p>“Of course it is,” she laughs, the sound light and airy next to him. She smiles at him, reaching up and pulling off the hat. She runs her hand through her hair, and he has to stop himself from reaching out to do the same. She leans in slightly and her sunshine dims just slightly as she puts the hat on him. </p>
<p>“Too much hair for a hat,” she says. Her fingers trail down his cheek and he can’t stop himself from letting his lips brush lightly over her wrist as her hand falls slowly away. It’s probably too much, she’d probably call it a Tim test. It definitely feels like a challenge, but she doesn’t look away. Out of the corner of his eye, a camera flash catches his attention, but he won’t let himself turn away. </p>
<p>“Princess Lucy!” He doesn’t roll his eyes as they both turn toward the girl, and he’s pretty impressed with himself. </p>
<p>“Princess Emily?” She sounds a little distracted, and he tries to hide his smirk. </p>
<p> “Are you ready for the parade? Mom said not to bug you,” she says, and okay, Tim appreciates how honest kids are. </p>
<p>“Absolutely,” Lucy says. Her voice is bright and happy, and it has nothing to do with who she’s talking to -- it’s pure Lucy, optimism and blue skies and maybe some magic. </p>
<p>Liz turns around to them. “Sorry,” she laughs. “She’ll talk to anyone about anything, all hours of the day,” she says, pulling lightly on Emily’s ponytail. </p>
<p>“Sounds familiar,” he whispers, knocking his knee into Lucy’s. She scoffs, but doesn’t look over at him. </p>
<p>“Mom, can I ask Princess Lucy a question?” </p>
<p>Liz waits for Lucy to nod. “I think so, Em, but why don’t you run it by me first,” she says, and Tim watches her smile grow as her daughter leans in and whispers a question to her. “That is an <em>excellent </em>question, Emily. But whisper,” she says, letting Emily lean over her toward Lucy.</p>
<p>Tim watches the little girl lean in, and then Lucy’s laughing and glancing over at him quickly. “I was thinking about it, for sure,” she says, and Tim watches her and Liz exchange a look. </p>
<p>
  <em>I don’t know. We talked about chemistry.</em>
</p>
<p>Nearby, parade music starts up, and people start to stand. He watches Lucy get to her feet, shaking out her limbs. His eyes follow a trail up her body to the hand she’s holding out for him. He takes it, and he could easily pull her down and get the secret out of her in any number of ways, but he pulls himself up instead. She doesn’t drop his hand right away. </p>
<p>“Ready for the parade, Tim?” She could be asking if he was ready for anything, and he’d still nod. Her thumb brushes over the back of his hand and she smiles, turning toward the music. </p>
<p>
  <em>Torture. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>----------</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“So?” She asks, as the last float glides by and the music quiets down. “Thoughts?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Honestly, he hadn’t spent as much time watching the parade as she had. She was the better view, no matter what else was going on. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Don’t think I’ve ever heard so many Disney songs in a row,” he says, because that at least he’d been able to focus on, most of the words echoing back to him in her clear, quiet singing voice. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She shakes her head. “That’s because you rarely let me choose the music in the shop,” she grumbles, but it’s laced with a flirty edge. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“And clearly that was yet another correct choice I made while training you.” He watches the Davidson family gather their stuff in front of them. “What’d she ask you, anyway?” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She smirks. “Maybe I’ll tell you later,” she says, like maybe it’s a promise. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>—————————— </em>
</p>
<p>He watches the Davidson family talk a little ways away, people streaming by all around them. Beside him, Lucy is scrolling through her phone, but he knows she’s paying attention. </p>
<p>Michael and Liz walk toward them, and Tim takes the opportunity to nudge Lucy. “Look alive, Boot.” She rolls her eyes at the name, but that’s never stopped him before. </p>
<p>“Hey, y’all,” Liz smiles. “I was going to blame this on the kids, but honestly? We’re <em>so </em>tired, and we’re ready for a break and some dinner. We’re going to head back to our hotel and get ready for dinner.”</p>
<p>Tim nods, glancing at Lucy. “Okay,” he says. “We can—“</p>
<p>Michael shakes his head. “No, no. We’re fine getting back. This was just out of an abundance of caution on my part, but I really, really appreciate you guys doing this. I know it’s out of the norm.”</p>
<p>“Not in a bad way,” Lucy says, smiling. “Best shift I’ve had in awhile.”</p>
<p>Liz glances between them and then smiles at Lucy. “You two should stay, enjoy the park without having to worry about us. Wade doesn’t have to know <em>we </em>didn’t stay, right, Mike?” </p>
<p>Michael shakes his head, but it’s with a look Tim recognizes all too well. <em>Don’t even bother disagreeing, you’ll lose. </em></p>
<p>Tim’s about to open his mouth to say they should really be getting back, but Lucy glances up at him, a silent question, and he stops. If they left now, they’d just sit in standstill traffic for an hour at least. And if staying keeps the slow smile that’s spreading across her face in his orbit, well. That’s just a bonus to not sitting in traffic.</p>
<p>“Silence means yes in Tim speak,” she says, turning back to Michael and Liz. “But are you sure you all are okay? We can follow you back--”</p>
<p>Liz shakes her head. “No. We’re <em>fine, </em>I promise. Please stay.” </p>
<p>Lucy nods. “Thanks. And, you know… <em>thank you,” </em>she says quietly, and it sounds pointed to him. The alternate universe that must exist in women’s restrooms that allowed them to bond however they had is vast and more complex than he’ll ever understand. </p>
<p>“I’m rarely wrong about these things,” she says, laughing. “Can I--” Liz asks, gesturing for a hug toward Lucy. </p>
<p>“Oh my <em>god, </em>yes,” Lucy says, reaching out to hug her. Michael holds his hand out for a handshake as they watch them hug, a quick, whispered conversation obviously taking place. If Lucy looks a little flushed as she pulls back, Tim tries not to focus on it. </p>
<p>“Okay, Liz. Em and Jake are about to run my parents ragged, let’s go,” Michael says, laughing. “Enjoy your day, guys.” </p>
<p>“Lucy, send me those pics, yeah? It was great meeting you both,” she says, smiling at Tim. They turn and walk away, and Tim watches the kids run ahead, laughing. The little girl waves, big and silly, and Tim smiles, watching Lucy wave back. </p>
<p>
  <em>—————————— </em>
</p>
<p>“You just make friends everywhere, don’t you?” He asks a couple minutes later, handing her a cold bottle of water. $6 for a bottle of water feels like another opening for him to complain about corporate greed, but he keeps his mouth shut, watching her take a sip.</p>
<p>“Thanks.” A droplet of water beads on her bottom lip, and he has to put his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching out to wipe it away. “And, Liz? Yeah, I <em>like</em> her.” </p>
<p>“Sounds about right.” He laughs, not at all surprised when she immediately rolls her eyes.</p>
<p>“What? My ability to make friends is part of my charm, <em>and </em>it makes me super trustworthy and approachable, which are excellent on-the-job skills -- which, might I add, I walked in the door with. You didn’t have to teach me that.”</p>
<p>“Hey, you don’t have to sell me on you,” he says, smiling as they start walking again. He glances over at her. He has no idea where they’re headed -- in the park or in general -- but he’ll wander next to her until they figure it out. “Gonna tell me what you and Liz were whispering about?” </p>
<p>She bites her lip and glances away, and he steels himself for that to be her only response, but when she looks back, she looks determined. “She was reminding me of what we talked about in the bathroom.”</p>
<p>“What, chemistry?” </p>
<p>She nods. “Yeah, kinda. She told me -- she said you’d go into battle for me. And I was telling her I’d do the same for you.” </p>
<p>“She’s right. That’s what we’ve spent the last year-plus working toward.” </p>
<p>“She didn’t -- <em>I don’t -- </em>I don’t mean at work. I mean --” She stops, swallows, like the words are hard to get out. </p>
<p>“I know,” he says, as gently as he can. He smiles, and it feels easy and slow and it’s <em>hers, </em>even if she doesn’t know it yet. He slows his pace, but doesn’t stop walking, even though she’s standing still. </p>
<p>Her hand on his wrist is the only thing that stops him, her voice as quiet as her touch is gentle. </p>
<p>“Tim.” It’s all she’s ever had to say. She bites her lip, her eyes bright and happy, all questions and high hopes, like always. It had been annoying when they first met, one of the most aggravating things about her, all the questions. </p>
<p>Her lips on his, cold and slick from the water, feel like answers to questions he’d never thought to voice. He smiles into the kiss as she takes off his hat, the fabric warm against his skin as she winds her hands around the back of his neck. Her nails scrape over the back of his head, and he wraps a hand around her waist, steadying her on her tiptoes. His other hand tangles in her hair and her lips curve into a smile, its shape familiar enough he recognizes it as one he’s wanted to kiss for longer than he should admit -- that might be all of them, though. </p>
<p>
  <em>Officer Bradford, what about you — happiest place on Earth?</em>
</p>
<p>She pulls back, falling back on her heels, and his first instinct is to follow her down, not let her go so quickly. She scrapes her teeth against his bottom lip, and he’d follow her anywhere she goes, for however long she let him. She smiles as she pulls back and presses a hand to his chest, creating some -- too much -- distance. </p>
<p>“Hi, and thanks,” she says, and it’s happy, and bright, and full of answers. </p>
<p>“Hi… and you’re welcome?”</p>
<p>“You just gave me a Disney first. Never had a first kiss here.” Her cheeks are flushed again, rosy and pink from the sun and maybe, definitely something more. </p>
<p>“A <em>first</em> kiss?” He asks, smirking as he brushes her hair back from her face. He’s just started to make it a second, a third, however high she’ll let him get, when she leans back again. </p>
<p>“Wait, <em>no, </em>I forgot about Tyler Mason, on our high school choir trip--”</p>
<p>“Don’t like him,” he says, and she’s laughing as he pulls her back in.</p>
<p>
  <em>—————————— </em>
</p>
<p>She walks him through the new Star Wars land, his hand on her hip, and watches his face morph into what she knows it would have looked like if he’d gotten to experience Disneyland at 8 like he’d hoped all those years ago. </p>
<p>She kisses him in line for Buzz Lightyear, and spends so much time watching the set of his jaw as he points the laser gun, precision aim as always, that she’s not even annoyed when he just laughs at how well he outshot her. </p>
<p>She leans into him, her lips just shy of his neck, and makes him wait in line to take pictures with Minnie and Mickey -- <em>it’s a keepsake, Tim, pretend you’re having a good time -- </em>and she doesn’t think he’s pretending at all, at this point. </p>
<p>She looks at herself in the mirror in the bathroom a little while later, her lips kissed-pink to match her cheeks, and breaths in, calming her racing heart. He’s scrolling through his phone when she meets him back outside, and she’s always been able to find him in a crowd, some wild, instant Tim-beacon forged first out of habit and nerves and then from something that felt maybe scarily of home -- but she’s never gotten to watch him from a distance, watch him find <em>her, </em>so she stands back, waiting for him to glance up. </p>
<p>He must have some similar homing device, because he doesn’t even have to search for her. His long legs carry him toward her, and he’s already holding out his hand. </p>
<p>“Come on,” he says, and she’ll go anywhere he goes.</p>
<p>
  <em>—————————— </em>
</p>
<p>“How’d you know it would be reopened?” She asks, as they curve through the maze-like line for the Haunted Mansion.</p>
<p>“While you were, I don’t know, discussing our love life or saving a kid from the depths of a toilet, or whatever, I managed to download the Disneyland app,” he replies, glancing back at her. </p>
<p><em>Our love life, </em>she wants to kiss him senseless, but she just laughs. “I think I might have a Disney convert on my hands,” she jokes. </p>
<p>He doesn’t have to be facing her to broadcast his eye roll, it’s in the set of his broad shoulders, the quick way he squeezes her hand. </p>
<p>----------</p>
<p>
  <em>This time, when the lights go out, he’s already holding her hand, his body still at too-teasing a distance. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>When they settle in the doom buggy, she lets the lights go down and the music fade in, and then she leans into him. He’s already waiting. She’s never hoped for a ride to breakdown before. It doesn’t, but they kiss in the dark, her knees pressed against his thigh, his hands in her hair and on her hips and skimming over her waist. And he can’t possibly know it just from touch, but maybe he senses it in the shudder of her breath against him, because his thumb runs perfect little circles over the date inked into her skin the whole time. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The first day of the rest of your life.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>His cheeks are just as flushed as hers as they stumble out of the dark, and if she didn’t know every penal code by heart that could be used to cite them, she’d pull him back into the dark with her, and she knows he’d go with very little convincing. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>—————————— </em>
</p>
<p>It’s just edging near darkness when they walk out of the park, a different shirt on his shoulders and brighter smiles on their faces than when they’d walked in, his fingers laced with hers. </p>
<p>The sound of fireworks in the distance follows them out, off the tram, and to his truck, and he stops just before he’s about to open the door for her. </p>
<p>“Hey, we still have a bet to settle. You gave me what I wanted already, but there’s one thing,” he says, a mischievous look crossing his face that she thinks she might need to get used to.</p>
<p>“If we were going to have sex on Disney property, it would have been back on the Haunted Mansion,” she says, laughing as he raises his eyebrows.</p>
<p>“I’m going to remember that, just so we’re clear, but you might be a little ahead of me there. It’s embarrassing, but I thought you might like to remake a Disney memory, sort of.”</p>
<p>She gives him a questioning look, but nods -- he’s never steered her wrong before. </p>
<p>“C’mere,” he says, taking her hand and pulling her body into his. She thinks he’s going to kiss her, but he spins her out instead, a quick twirl before she’s back in his arms. She laughs, throws her head back, surprised. He does it again, and she’s never felt so happy, out of control in his controlled spin. She thinks he might do it a third time, and she leans up to kiss him, slow and steady under the parking lot lights instead. The fluorescent lights aren’t fireworks, but they feel close enough. </p>
<p>“I know it’s not the same thing, but I heard the fireworks, and I thought -- I know it’s kind of cheesy --”</p>
<p>“Cheesy, but sort of perfect,” she assures him. “But <em>that’s</em> what you wanted for winning our bet?”</p>
<p>He shakes his head, running his thumb over her sunburnt cheek. “No. I told you, you already gave me what I wanted.”</p>
<p>“Mhmm,” she murmurs, and she doesn’t need to ask if he’s talking about her. If she’d won, she’d only have asked for one thing, too. </p>
<p>
  <em>—————————— </em>
</p>
<p>His hand stays on her thigh or interlaced with hers as they drive back towards home, and she snaps a quick picture of their joined hands on her thigh. It’s for her, because it’s just one on an already long list of sweet things Tim’s done <em>just </em>today that she never wants to forget -- but it’s also proof. </p>
<p>She sends it, along with the pictures she took of the Davidson family throughout the day, to Liz. </p>
<p>
  <em>Thought you’d want to know you were right. Thanks for the advice. If you ever need Disney chaperones again, I volunteer us. Great meeting you!</em>
</p>
<p>She swipes through her messages, back to her conversation with Jackson earlier. He’d sent a few other things throughout the day that she hadn’t responded to, but the last one had made her roll her eyes the first time she’d read it -- <em>guess you’re ignoring me to makeout with Bradford now, guess I’ll get used to it -- </em>but now, she smiles. She types out a quick <em>maybe you should</em> <em>get used to it </em>and laughs when the three typing bubbles pop up immediately. </p>
<p>Tim glances over at her as she’s smiling down at her phone. “What’re you smiling about?”</p>
<p>She rolls her eyes at him. “Can’t I just <em>smile?” </em></p>
<p>He quirks a smile at her, quick and easy. “Wouldn’t dare stop you.”</p>
<p>“Damn straight,” she teases, glancing back down at her phone as it vibrates.</p>
<p>Liz had sent a few pictures -- the one she’d shown her in the bathroom, one of them on the Jungle Cruise, pressed close together, his hand almost-but-not-quite touching her, plus one of them at the parade, right after she’d put his hat back on him. <em>Told you I was right. Thanks for everything today -- glad it’ll be a memorable day for you, too. Just keep going into battle for each other, and you’ll be good. Loved meeting you, let’s hang out next time we’re in town. </em></p>
<p>Jackson’s message is shorter. <em>I need. every. single. detail. right this actual second, immediately. </em></p>
<p>She sends quick responses back to both of them and turns back to Tim. </p>
<p>“So, what’s the verdict? Is Disney as bad as you built it up to be?”</p>
<p>“What’d you call it, <em>magical?”</em> His gaze lingers on her as long as traffic on the highway allows it to. “It was alright,” he says finally, that all-too-familiar smirk finding its natural home on his lips. </p>
<p>She laughs, and his hand inches up her thigh just slightly. “I guess that’s about the answer I should have expected.” </p>
<p>“Hey.” His voice is quiet in the dark of the truck. “Parts of it were better than I ever let myself hope they’d be.” His thumb digs into her thigh, a quick teasing touch. </p>
<p>“Oh,you’re <em>good,”</em> she says, her eyes lingering on his lips. </p>
<p>“You have no idea.” </p>
<p>
  <em>——————————</em>
</p>
<p>“So, I thought the goal here was to watch the drunk pirates movie you made me rent,” he says later. </p>
<p>“I’ve already seen it,” she says, her lips trailing across his neck. “More than once, in fact.”</p>
<p>“Okay, but <em>I</em> haven’t seen it at all.” </p>
<p>“I <em>know</em>. That’s why I made you rent it. I told you I’d watch it with you.” She sucks a kiss right below his jaw, shifting on the bed next to him enough that the hem of the World Class Charmer t-shirt inches up her bare thigh. It looks better on her than it ever could have on him, and as soon as she’d picked it up off the living room floor and slipped it on to let Kojo in from the backyard, he’d known it was her shirt.</p>
<p>“But you’re not <em>watching</em>, and <em>I</em> couldn’t tell you a single thing that’s happening on screen.”</p>
<p>“Why?” She asks, a flirty, playful edge to her voice, her breath against his neck the best torture. “Can’t you see the screen?”</p>
<p>He digs his fingers into her thigh, and she laughs as he hauls her across the mattress to straddle him. “I can, but <em>this</em> is a much better view,” he says, gathering her hair up off her neck. He tugs at her hair to pull her mouth to his, and as soon as her breath hitches, he knows he’s got her.</p>
<p>“Fine,” she gives in. “We can watch later, <em>if</em> you insist--”</p>
<p>“I’m sorry, if <em>I</em> insist? Who distracted who, here?” </p>
<p>“Beside the point. But you better have watched it by the next time you take me to Disney,” she says, bracing her hands on his chest as though to get her point across. </p>
<p>“The <em>next</em> time? Someone’s confident.” His hands find her hips under her shirt, and she nods, closing her eyes. He uses that to his advantage, leveraging his weight and sitting up so they’re chest to chest. Her heart is racing, but his is slow and steady. </p>
<p>“It’s a date, <em>princess,</em>” he teases, and she opens her eyes, her smile bright and happy and <em>his.</em></p>
<p>She leans in, her lips glancing over his. “Don’t <em>ever</em> call me princess.”</p>
<p>
  <em>Officer Bradford, what about you — happiest place on Earth?</em>
</p>
<p>He’s man enough to admit when he’s been wrong. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A fair warning -- my Disney is DisneyWorld, so even though I downloaded the Disneyland app and stared at the map more than I probably should have, I wrote this with my near-scary memorization of Magic Kingdom in mind, so please forgive any glaring errors. Many things in this fic are heavily-inspired by fond memories of silly things that have happened to me or a loved one at Disney. </p>
<p>As always, comments and kudos are forever appreciated.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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